


Drabble Collection

by Misdemeanor1331



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-06 19:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17945309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misdemeanor1331/pseuds/Misdemeanor1331
Summary: A collection of Dramione drabbles which vary in both length and tone.





	1. Set Fire to the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the song "Set Fire to the Rain" by Adele

**Set Fire to the Rain**

What had spawned the fight didn’t matter. It never had, and was often forgotten in favor of their real problems: a lack of trust, a lack of faith. She doubted him; he resented her. _Those_ were the constants in their relationship. It was sick and wrong, and he was sick of it. She had stormed out on him too many times, slammed too many doors, slept elsewhere too often when she should have been with him. 

Not anymore. 

Not fucking tonight. 

The screen door slammed. That was the trigger. Draco darted after her, shoving it open, nearly ripping it from its hinges. The night was black. The rain came down in torrents but he could see her clear as day. In two long steps, he was behind her. He grabbed her arm and spun her around. 

“Don’t touch me, you bastard, don’t _touch me_!” Hermione tore herself out of his grasp, leapt away. Before he could lunge toward her again, she had drawn her wand. She whipped it around her head like a lasso and, with a great roaring hiss, was swallowed in light and heat too intense for a spring evening. 

Draco stilled instantly, his silver eyes wide. The burning rain smoked where it hit the grass, creating a singed circle that would require months of tending to re-grow properly. 

Instinct told him to leap through it. Instinct told him to brave the burns for her. 

For _them_. 

But how often had he leapt? How often had he braved the impossible? And if he did it again now, what would that prove? What would that change? How many more times would he have to do it to prove himself? 

“I’m through jumping through fire for you!” he yelled. 

The hiss may have been the rain, or it may have been her, but it didn’t matter: the flames persisted. She wanted them there. 

_She wanted to see them burn_. 

The realization left him empty. But he straightened and set his jaw regardless. 

“You always did get what you wanted.” He was quiet, unsure if she had even heard him. That didn’t matter either. She wouldn’t change. Not for him. 

He looked at her a final time – memorizing her searing form, her heaving chest, her infernal eyes – and then he left, feeling vindicated. Let them burn. Let her clean up the cinders of their shared life. 

And let her choke on the fucking ashes.


	2. If I Die Young

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the song "If I Die Young" by The Band Perry

**If I Die Young**

“Hermione?” 

She looked up from her seat on the ground, tears trekking silent rivers down both cheeks. She did not look away from several bouquets of white lilies. Draco never understood why people put flowers on graves. Their comfort was fleeting. They rotted and died just as surely as the body beneath them did. It was easier to think of it that way, so logical and clinical. So detached. 

“I didn’t think you’d come.” Her voice was hollow. “It’s been a year.” 

“I know.” How couldn’t he? He had felt each second as if it had been an hour, and each hour a century. 

“I needed you.” 

He nodded and joined her on the grass, close but not touching. “I know.” 

“You left me.” Her voice shook now, less hollow than before. Draco felt cold with shame. After a year of alternating misery and numbness, it startled him. 

“I thought I needed space. I didn’t know what to do.” 

“Neither did I.” 

“I tried to forget her.” 

“Draco…” 

“I can’t. I can’t forget her.” A soft breeze teased his hair and chilled his tears. Hermione took his hand. It was warm and dry. She had always been solid and sure when nothing else was. 

“I miss her,” she said. “Every day I miss her, and I’m afraid it won’t get any easier. I’m afraid that I’ll always have this hole…” Her voice cracked, broke. “This _hole_ inside my chest. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I couldn’t, that my body couldn’t-” 

She dissolved, and covered her eyes with her free hand. Draco pulled her close and held her for a long time. He stared at the lilies. 

“Maybe we can try again,” he said softly. “Maybe, together, it will get better.” 

She choked out a laugh-like sob. “Do you really believe that?” 

He hesitated. “No. But I can’t go on like this. Without her, without you… I just can’t.” 

Hermione leaned on his shoulder. Her grip on his hand was firm. 

They stayed like that until the autumn sun disappeared below the tree line. Until the white marble of the headstone turned blue-purple in the dusky light. Until the name on the headstone – the name of their newborn daughter – was carved of shadows instead of stone. 

And then they left, together.


	3. Who Always Kills the Spiders?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a random conversation in the Hawthorn and Vine Shoutbox (Merlin rest it.)

**Who Always Kills the Spiders?**

“Granger, come over here.” 

Hermione quirked her eyebrow and looked up from her skillet. ‘Granger’ was specifically reserved for periods of high anxiety. This was a Thursday evening and, though she was cooking, it was hardly a stressful situation. “Can it wait, Draco? The chicken is almost ready to turn.” 

“No, no, it can’t wait. Quickly, it’s getting away!” 

“Getting away?” 

Hermione set down her tongs and wiped her hands on a dishtowel. She rounded the kitchen corner and stood in the threshold, arms crossed before her chest. Draco stood with his back against the near wall, his eyes glued to a speck on the ceiling. “Do you see it?” he whispered. “Just there?” 

She squinted at the spot he indicated. It was a spider. And it was tiny. Certainly no bigger than her littlest fingernail. 

“See it now?” 

“Draco, it can’t hear you.” 

“That’s what _you_ think.” The speck moved a few inches to the left; Draco shifted left as well. “See? Now you’ve upset it. Get it, quickly, before it seeks revenge.” 

A smile slowly spread across her face. “Draco Malfoy, are you asking me to kill a spider for you?” 

He tore his eyes away from the ceiling for long enough to glare haughtily at her. “This is _your_ flat so that is _your_ spider. I fail to see why I should be responsible for its extermination.” 

She rolled her eyes and grabbed yesterday’s copy of the _Prophet_ from the table. She climbed onto a chair, rolled the paper, and with a swift whap, squished the offending, ex-arachnid. It stuck quite conveniently to the week’s Quidditch scores. 

“Threat eliminated,” she said as she climbed down. She binned the paper and planted a quick kiss on the corner of Draco’s mouth. “You can sleep easy tonight, darling, though I do hope the overcooked chicken was worth it.” 

From Draco’s too-pleased expression, Hermione assumed it was.


	4. Hope is the thing...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A 100-word drabble challenge via Tumblr. The prompt was: beautiful, but destructive.

**__Hope is the thing...**

_Hope is the thing with feathers_

Repeating, just that line. Her mind a faulty record player, the following stanzas an old, warped vinyl.

Vinyl floors beneath her feet, scuffed from the mothers who had occupied this chair before her. Had their minds skipped, too? Or could they move forward, finish the verse?

Draco couldn’t stop moving. Pacing, back and forth. Balled fists. Clenched jaw. Stuck in his own way, she supposed.

“Mr. Malfoy? Mrs. Granger?”

Draco stopped. Hermione stood. The Healer’s expression – indecipherable. She swallowed a scream.

“Come with me, please.”

_Hope is the thing with feathers: beautiful, but destructive._


	5. Research

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A 100-word drabble challenge via Tumblr. The prompt was: Are you flirting or starting a fight?

**Research**

The scrolls hit Hermione’s desk with a dissatisfying  _whuff_. “You were completely out of line.”

“It’s not my fault you didn’t do your research.”

“Do my –” She whirled, jabbing a finger at him. “I spent ages in the Ministry archives! I didn’t see you there once.”

“You know the deal: you call, I come.” Draco shrugged. “You never called.”

She paused. Had that been their agreement? He’d yelled it after their last argument; she hadn’t thought he’d meant it. Her eyes narrowed. “Are you flirting, or starting a fight?”

Draco closed the distance between them. “What do you think?”


	6. There She Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A 100-word drabble challenge via Tumblr. The prompt was: what have they done to you.

**There She Is**

“This is wrong. Nott shouldn’t be in Azkaban over something this trivial.”

“Trivial?” Hermione’s eyes shot to his. “He lied under oath.”

“To protect his family.”

“His Death Eater father.”

“His innocent mother.” 

“My hands are tied. The Ministry has rules.”

“What have they done to you? Where is the girl who started the D.A.? Who manipulated time for her own ends? Who lit a bloody _professor_ on fire? Hang the rules, Granger. Do what’s _right_.”

After a minute of silence, she sighed.

“I’ll make a call.”

Draco smiled and, so quietly she almost missed it, said, “There she is.”


End file.
